


Tethering at the Edge of Sanity

by Sine_Timore



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Abject Failure at Both, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Attempt at horror, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, STONY Bingo 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 12:47:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15510207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sine_Timore/pseuds/Sine_Timore
Summary: Steve and Tony attempt a tactical retreat (run away together) under Thor's advisement.





	Tethering at the Edge of Sanity

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Lore for the Beta, who single handed-ly converted a draft into a readable fic, put up with my sick whinging and helped me manage this fic within the timeline. Genuinely a God!Tier human. Thankyou so very much.

Tony shifted uncomfortably on the ratty couch. When all of this inevitably went wrong, he wanted it filed that this had not been his idea. He wiggled his feet between Steve and the inside of the couch insolently. Steve glared at him. Tony ignored him. Tony hadn’t insisted Steve come to the conclusion that a tactical retreat was needed, nor had he invited him to sit on a ratty couch and watch lame TV in the middle of nowhere. Though, to be fair, Steve hadn’t either. That was all Thor. Again, when all this inevitably went wrong Tony wanted it on paper that he’d had nothing to do with it.

Tony rubbed his hands together. The cottage was cold, and they were low on supplies. He hiked the blanket further around himself, pulling his ice-tipped fingers into its warm folds. Tony hadn’t expected this to happen when Thor had woken him up and joyfully stated that he and Steve were going to make up. Tony couldn’t help but commend Thor’s enthusiasm. His relationship with Steve was so far beyond salvaging that even the ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’ jokes weren’t funny anymore, just sad. Steve raised an eyebrow beside him on the couch, clearly somehow divining the subject of Tony’s thoughts.

For whichever reason that made sense only if you practiced the Steve Rogers school of thought, Steve was almost as excited as Thor about all this, which had Tony completely bamboozled.. Out of the three of them, Steve was the only one who knew exactly what had gone down during the war. Tony wasn’t dumb. He had read the papers. In fact, it had been the first thing he had done after waking up from his coma - someone had shoved a newspaper in his face with the headlines: 'Captain America Assassinated.' Tony didn’t remember the war, but he remembered the sheer terror he had felt when he read it. The Tony Stark who had fought that war had been a complete asshole moonlighting as a dictator, but he almost felt sorry for the poor bastard.

Tony ignored Steve’s sulking completely. Over the years, he had definitely built up some kind of immunity to it. He closed his eyes as some shampoo commercial rolled on the ancient television. He’d just have a bit of a shut-eye, and worry about his diminishing relationship with Steve when he wasn’t quite so cold and floating in gallons of hot chocolate.  
——————————  
Tony woke up slowly. He nuzzled into the soft warm skin beneath him, comfortably warm for the first time all day, and rubbed his eyes. Steve had one arm thrown over Tony’s shoulder, and the other resting softly at his nape. Tony stifled a small smile, gently pushing away from 250 pounds of gorgeous super soldier and slipping his feet into the fluffy red and gold shoes he had insisted on bringing along. Steve had sulked over them all the way to the cottage.

Tony shuffled over to the bathroom, yawning widely. He sat on the stool in front of the mirror and rubbed his nose, reaching for the aspirin on the shelf underneath. He popped a tablet and looked up at the mirror absently as he raised his water glass to drink, only to see pulsing black vines covering his chest. 

With an ungodly shriek, Tony dropped the glass, upended the stool and backed away from the mirror, tripping over his feet and falling to the floor with a loud crash.

He took a few deep breaths, calming his racing heart. He pushed himself back to his feet and crawled over to the mirror again. Upon closer inspection, Tony realized that the black threads on his skin weren’t vines, they were _wires_ , deep black wires pulsing with some kind of organic-looking black energy.

He held the railing under the wash basin in a white knuckled grip and touched the clear surface, tracing the wires as they went down his shoulders, gently teasing his collarbones, disappearing under the collar of Tony’s She-Hulk T-shirt.

He grabbed his collar frantically and tore the shirt off himself, standing half naked in the bathroom. He wondered absently what he’d look like to a passer by. An idiot standing in the bathroom half-naked staring, horrified, at his own reflection. Glowing black wires covering every inch of visible skin. 

He raised his hand, fingers trembling violently where they were splayed over his stomach, as the wires went lower, and lower, He stepped back and away from the mirror, rushing to the door. 

He lunged at the door knocker, shaking and pulling at it. The door was sealed so firmly that Tony knew without having to check that it was barricaded from the outside. The wires tightened around his throat and Tony scrambled desperately at his neck, blank gaps dotting his vision, and the door still wouldn't _budge _.__

____

Tony's gasping breath echoed jarringly loud in the quiet bathroom, as the wires tightened around his throat.  
—————-  
Tony woke up slowly. He nuzzled into the soft warm skin beneath him, comfortably warm for the first time all day, and rubbed his eyes. Steve had one arm thrown over Tony’s shoulder, and the other resting softly at his nape. Tony stifled a small smile, gently pushing away from 250 pounds of gorgeous super soldier and slipping his feet into the fluffy red and gold shoes he had insisted on bringing along. Steve had sulked over them all the way to the cottage.

He fumbled for his vibrating phone with one hand, scrolling through the missed calls and the twitter notifications straight to Pepper’s constant stream of texts. He distractly shoved off the couch, wobbling slightly on his feet, throwing his hands out in a childish bid for balance, when a rough hand grasped his wrist. Tony flung around, his phone raised over his head like a battle axe, until Steve’s bewildered blue eyes blinked up at him, wide and confused. Tony heaved a sigh of relief, dropping his phone and taking a few heaving breaths.

“You scared me!” He gasped out with a groan, running a hand over his forehead. Steve gave him a sweet, guileless smile, and Tony as ever went weak in the knees. He stepped forward willingly as Steve pulled him close, resting his blond head on Tony’s stomach. Tony smiled down at him, sappy, gently running a hand over his hair. He was growing it out again, Tony noticed, as Steve snuffled contentedly.

“Steve...” Tony muttered gently as Steve pulled him further in. The ‘Bro Line’ between them had always been a bit blurred, but this was getting a little too weird. it was hard on Tony’s already fragile heart. “I need to - ” Steve cut him off, rapidly shaking his head and pulling him even closer.

“Steve…” Tony tried to push Steve off, and when Steve wouldn’t budge, pushed harder. Tony struggled, pulling at his wrist; something was wrong. Steve would never have boxed Tony in like this, especially if Tony explicitly told him to let go. Tony ran a mental tally of all the possibly terrible things he could’ve done that month. Unplugging all the TVs when Steve had wanted to watch Grey’s Anatomy came to mind. Hardly one of Tony’s worse sins, really. 

He started shoving at Steve’s shoulders, suddenly quite worried. Surely Steve was alright?  
  
Tony managed to cup Steve’s face in his hands, running a hand through his hair, checking for bumps. Steve calmly pulled away from his fussing, gently taking Tony’s hands into his own. Tony stared at him blankly as Steve's school-boy smile turned into a menacing shark-like grin, his pale Irish skin darkening into a familiar sick green. The Skrull soldier tilted his head like a bird, as though he was trying to delve into Tony's mind. Tony took a sharp breath. “Where’s Steve?” he demanded, his voice letting out a faint squeak in the end. The Skrull just shook his head, a look of fake sadness in his face. He tightened his grip on Tony’s hands and squeezed. Tony immediately fell to his knees with a scream, as the soldier's claws practically shattered the bones in his hand, but the Skrull clearly had something else in mind. He continued squeezing until Tony had no air left to scream with, until his hands were nothing but bleeding lumps of unrecognizable flesh.

Tony stared at his hands vacantly, tears obscuring his vision. 

When darkness arrived, he welcomed it gratefully. 

\----

Tony woke up slowly. He nuzzled into the soft warm skin beneath him, comfortably warm for the first time all day, and rubbed his eyes. Steve had one arm thrown over Tony’s shoulder, and the other resting softly at his nape. Tony stifled a small smile, gently pushing away from 250 pounds of gorgeous super soldier and slipping his feet into the fluffy red and gold shoes he had insisted on bringing along. Steve had sulked over them all the way to the cottage.

He stumbled over to the fireplace, still half asleep. “Fire” He grumbled under his breath “Who still uses fire when there’s modern heating to be had?”

After stoking the fire Tony turned around, unexpectedly coming face to face with Tiberius Stone. Tony gasped, backing away rapidly, grasping for the hot poker he had just used. Ty knocked it away with a booted toe.

Ty grinned at him, with the usual half-mad look in his eyes. Tony’s heart beat so hard, he was truly surprised it didn’t echo over the dark room.

Ty traced a thin, claw-like hand on Tony’s jean-clad thigh, stroked his face in a lover’s parody of a caress, before leaning forward, holding his head in a death grip and stealing a violent kiss. Tony felt the hot blood and ash bubbling in Ty’s mouth like acid. He retched, ripping himself away from his former friend so violently that Ty fell into the fireplace. 

Coughing from the smoke, Tony fled without looking back. If Ty burned to death, it would probably be for the betterment of all of mankind. 

Tony gasped for breath a few minutes later, convinced Ty wouldn’t be able to find him again. He leaned against the wall, slowly edging down, throwing his head back in relief.  
Quiet footsteps interrupted Tony’s thoughts as Rumiko walks around the corner. Dark hair shiny and all the way down to her waist, a wide grin on her face, as she mouthed ‘Lover Boy’ at him. 

Tony’s lips curved into a smile as she lowered herself onto his lap. She leaned down and kissed him sweetly, gently running her tongue over his lips. Tony opened his mouth all too readily for her, burying himself in her warmth. Tony's mind was hazy, filled with Rumiko's perfume, the feel of her hands in his hair. 

Distantly he heard heavy footsteps, Ty’s steel capped boots slamming the floor into submission. With a low moan, Tony opened his eyes, awareness reasserting itself. He pushed Rumiko away horrified. She no longer looked beautiful. Her hair was in tangles, her clothes as ripped and torn as the day she died, her skin as sallow and cold as a corpse’s. Before her confusion could turn into anger, Tony scrambled to his feet and ran. 

He could make out the sharp click of her heels on the floor as she chased him, and the heavier stomping of Ty’s feet behind her. Tony ran in a mad scramble, with no idea where he was going.

He pushed open a door, straight into a dead end. With a low whine, Tony flung around back to the door. Before his desperation could descend into full blown panic, a gentle hand grasped his elbow, and Tony would recognize that grip _anywhere._ Happy Hogan smiled reassuringly at Tony, pulling him behind him with a soft “This way Boss”.

Tony followed Happy in blind faith as he lugged him into the kitchen and pushed him inside a large storage cupboard, closing it after him and standing guard. Tony held his breath and waited, pretending that the dark quiet cupboard wasn’t scarier than anything that could be outside.

He heard Ty and Rumiko’s footsteps grow closer and gripped the door tightly. A beat passed, and then they whispered something and left the kitchen.

Happy finally opened the door and let Tony out. Tony took a deep gasping breath as soon as the door opened and fell to his knees onto the paneled floors. He ran a hand through his hair, and laughed hysterically.

Happy waited patiently for Tony to regain his composure before helping him back up to his feet, standing close until Tony regained his breath.

Tony rested his head on the wall and placed his hand on Happy’s shoulder in relief, gently squeezing it in unspoken gratefulness. Happy squeezed his hand in return, Tony could hear the implied 'unnecessary' behind it. Happy had always been so over-protective, he had readily and repeatedly risked everything for Tony. Tony had never taken a moment to Thank him. Tony turned to face Happy, fully intending to give him a deeply heartfelt 'Thankyou' and apology, when Happy restrained him with a raised hand. He took Tony's hands in his and raised it to his throat. Tony looked at him, confused and before Tony could even comprehend what he’d been trying to do, Happy had already snapped his own neck and fallen to the floor, limp and undoubtedly dead.  
A crow cawed in the distance and Tony whimpered, huddling into himself between the refrigerator and the handsome cupboard.  
Rumiko and Ty showed up at the door, no longer running. They walked towards him with the assurance of a predator that knew it had won, had already conquered its prey. Rumiko sat at his back, petting his hair in mock gentleness, while Ty moved to his front; he always had to call the shots, Tony thought bitterly. And everyone else had better play by _his_ rules.

Ty kicked his legs apart, with all the concern he’d show a pebble on the road.

\-------------------

Tony woke up slowly. He nuzzled into the soft warm skin beneath him, comfortably warm for the first time all day, and rubbed his eyes. Steve had one arm thrown over Tony’s shoulder, and the other resting softly at his nape. Tony stifled a small smile, gently pushing away from 250 pounds of gorgeous super soldier and slipping his feet into the fluffy red and gold shoes he had insisted on bringing along. Steve had sulked over them all the way to the cottage.

The room was warm, cozy, but Tony still felt stifled for some reason. He regretfully pushed himself away from the warmth of the fire-place and stumbled onto the door, still mostly doozy.

He opened the door and was promptly attacked by a draft of cold wind. He shut the door behind him; he knew how much Steve hated the cold. He sat on the icy staircase, still not sure as to why he had thought this was a good idea, and rubbed his feet against the ice crusted stair. He pulled at a long string from his shirt and looked up carelessly, in the distance he saw long, curly blond hair caught and gripped tight in a thorny bush. 

He ran forward and fell to his knees beside an injured woman. Her skin was grimy and crusted with blood. Tony gently took her by her battered shoulders and flipped her over, gasping as a clearly dead Carol lay limp in his arms. It couldn’t be Carol! Tony would’ve recognized her before if it was Carol. Her blood soaked through his jeans as he stumbled to his feet. It wasn’'t just Carol, Tony noticed with growing horror. Thor was lying at a distance, hands splayed and cape torn. Spider Man was hanging off a tree branch a giant hole burnt through his chest. He saw Luke and Jessica with Danny. He saw Hank and Jan lying on the ground, scant inches from the other. Tony flung around spotting Wanda, Vision, Bobbi, Jessica Drew, Natasha, Bucky, Rhodey,Pepper. Everyone Tony knew. 

Everyone he loved.

Tony fell on his back,is breath leaving him in sharp bursts. He placed a hand over his heart, still gasping. He looked at Spiderman. The wound was so obviously a repulsor burn.

Tony looked down. In his gauntleted fist hung a bottle of whiskey.

\-----------

Tony woke up slowly. He nuzzled into the soft warm skin beneath him, comfortably warm for the first time all day, and rubbed his eyes. Steve had one arm thrown over Tony’s shoulder, and the other resting softly at his nape. Tony stifled a small smile, gently pushing away from 250 pounds of gorgeous super soldier and slipping his feet into the fluffy red and gold shoes he had insisted on bringing along. Steve had sulked over them all the way to the cottage.

He walked to the run-down kitchen of the cottage, pulling a water bottle from the fridge. He grabbed another bottle for Steve just in case, and walked back to the couch. His skin was chilled already.

The tree branches rustled against ice-encrusted windows, and Tony shivered. This place was just creepy.

He walked into the room to TV static and sighed, walking toward it instead. The TV cast blue-grey light directly onto Steve’s face and Tony wondered how Steve was sleeping. His senses were very sensitive due to the Serum - the light would definitely have annoyed him. Tony switched the TV off, plunging the room into darkness. Tony irrationally felt his stomach clench. He had always been afraid of the dark, that was no news, but really, Steve was there, and it was a cozy cottage. What could go wrong?

Tony shrugged off his misgivings and walked back to Steve, pulling the blanket over his shoulder and leaning into his warmth. He pressed the cold tip of his nose into Steve’s neck and Steve snuffled, disgruntled in his sleep. Tony just smirked and settled down, shoving his cold hands in between them for warmth. Tony felt something warm trickle into his hands and he shuffled away, thrusting Steve further back trying to gain some traction. The warmth gushed further, and Tony, all too familiar with the feel of blood in his hands, pushed himself off of Steve with a yell.  
Steve remained terribly terrifyingly still. Tony groaned, a quiet noise from the back of his throat, scrambling with one hand for Steve and with the other for his phone. He grabbed Steve’s lolling head desperately, pulling Steve to himself, turning the torch function on and then slapping his face, sharply, all the while begging him to wake up. Steve remained still.  
Tony felt hot tears soak his beard as he ran the torch over Steve’s torso, trying to find the source of the blood. There was a sharp jagged wound right over his heart, and Tony took another terrified breath, placing the phone on the ground. He desperately cupped Steve’s face, lying limp and still in his arms.

“Wake up!” he growled “Wake up! You bastard!”

Tony ripped off his shirt, tearing it into strips, desperately struggling to reduce the blood flow. He placed a hand on Steve’s throat to feel his pulse; it was beating very very faintly, and Tony suspected the only reason he could hear it was due to some leftover Extremis in his bloodstream.

He tightened the knot on Steve’s chest as something made a delicate _crinkle_ from behind him. Tony carefully lowered Steve to the ground, stumbling to his feet reaching for his phone desperately. He turned around, walking with hazy feet away from the blood-encrusted floors and Steve.

“He- Hello ?” He called out. “If this is some kind of prank, it’s a stupid one.” The room was silent.

Tony fumbled forward towards the light switch. His phone attempted to slip through his sweaty fingers but Tony held onto it with a white knuckled grip. He made a last desperate move towards the light switch...

————————————————

“Tony… Tony!! TONY!!!” 

Tony woke up with a jerk, hands flailing wildly. Steve’s hands were clamped around Tony’s forearms as he leaned over him, both of them sprawled across the ground, their blankets tangled. Steve felt warm; very warm - Tony was as cold as ice.

He looked at Steve. Alive and strong and full of life, certainly not bleeding to death in this god-forsaken cottage. Steve was staring at him, pale and terrified and obviously so _so_ worried for Tony that he really didn’t really think twice, he just surged up and kissed Steve. For all the build up and time it had taken them to get to this moment, it felt almost anti-climatic, no fireworks going off, Steven Price not playing in the background. All the same it was as close to perfection as it got. 

When Tony pulled away, Steve looked at him his eyes wide, mouth opened in a round ‘o’ as perfect as the rest of him. Tony laughed, half deranged, and kissed him again, and again, and again. He didn’t know what he’d do if Steve pushed him away and never spoke to Tony again. He just knew he couldn’t enough of kissing him. Steve was warm and sweet and kind and Steve had once told Tony that he had given him a home, and Tony should’ve said it right then, he should’ve said that Steve had given him a home too. That Steve was his home, and if anything ever happened to him, Tony would probably go insane, that he had gone insane. Tony clutched at Steve’s shoulders desperately, his fingers probably leaving indentations on his skin. 

Steve didn't complain at all. 

“Fe-”

“Fears,” Steve said in between kisses as they clung to each other like lovers lost, and maybe they were. Carol had once been genuinely surprised that Steve and Tony hadn’t been together. Had everyone else known? Why hadn’t they told him? God! They could’ve had it the world.

Tony finally pulled away after an apologetic peck.

“What?”

“It makes us experience our greatest fears,” Steve said. 

“What does?”

Steve held up one of Tony’s fluffy iron man slippers apologetically; it was burnt completely and hung sadly from Steve’s hands. He must’ve made a distressed sound, as Steve’s face fell as though this was all somehow his fault.

“It had a hex on it” he says miserably. “I called Wanda.”

Tony closed his eyes in resignation. On hindsight, he had had an unhealthy attachment to it.

Steve looked down and rubbed his nape. “You were screaming my name,” he muttered quietly. Tony flushed and shook his head. He had done a lot more embarrassing things in his life than calling out Steve’s name in his sleep. 

Tony nudged Steve’s shoulder. “I thought you were dead,” he exclaimed. “I’m alright Steve,” he added, when Steve still didn’t look up. Steve hugged him close, his hands shaking slightly. Tony wrapped the blanket around them both, pulling Steve to his feet and nudging him towards the room. Where they’d sleep, in the bed, together. And they would definitely leave by tomorrow. Tony was never listening to Thor ever again. Steve smiled happily at him as he held his hand and walked towards the room. Tony promptly changed his mind - Thor was the best bro anyone could ever ask for, and if all of this worked out Tony would take _Thor_ for a tactical retreat in fucking Rome.

In the lovely bedroom, furnished with deep reds and browns, they exchanged lingering kisses: between changing into pyjamas, between brushing their teeth, before getting under the sheets. Steve pulled Tony close to him on the King-Sized bed, and Tony sighed in contented bliss. There were no fireplaces or dark corners or dangerously large wardrobes in the room. Tony snuggled into Steve, feeling a kiss being placed on his head before he drew back to see Steve’s lips curve in a small smile. “About those shoes” he began smugly. 

Tony kissed him before Steve could say ‘I told you so’.


End file.
